


solace

by spoom



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, M/M, Mild Gore, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prisoner Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Protective GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), healer georgenotfound, i broke up the feral boys, im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 18:01:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30126708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spoom/pseuds/spoom
Summary: George takes Dream somewhere he'll be safe, and stays with him.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Karl Jacobs & Sapnap, Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 168





	solace

“You can scream for Sam all you want,” the scarred man stepped closer, gesturing to Dream with a pair of pliers, “You’re either gonna tell me, or we’re going to do this the hard way.”

“No- Where's Sam?! How the fuck- How did you get those in here?” Dream gasped, pushing desperately backwards against the obsidian wall.

Quackity only lessened the space between them, leaning forward until he was close enough for Dream to hear him. 

“I didn’t ‘sneak’ them in, Dream. Sam let this happen. Nobody is going to protect you,” he whispered.

A flash of something like sorrow flitted across Dream’s face, and his breaths were rapid and shallow. Quackity felt immense satisfaction from the sight. He was about to say some more when Dream unceremoniously crumpled to the ground, unconscious. 

_ That’s okay _ , he reasoned.  _ We have plenty of time _ .

Days scraped by where Dream wasn’t sure if he’d actually stopped crying, or if he’d just passed out long enough to let the tears dry. Calloused hands held him up when he needed to eat, and after a week he hoped he’d never have to taste another raw potato again. Every time he heard the familiar footsteps it was as if all his energy was suddenly sapped out of him, leaving him weak and limp. 

Sometimes Quackity was kind. He’d take a break from pinching and cutting and hitting to build Dream back up with gentle touches and comforting words. He’d hold his hands and coo at him, trying to tenderly persuade him to eat. On especially good days he’d run a hand through Dream’s unkempt hair, and maybe remove some of the knots built up there. His softness in those moments made Dream want to sob from relief and embarrassment. Being weakened to the point where he let his abuser hold him just to feel some form of love was never on his bucket list.

The next day he was always back to normal. Dream dreaded the days after the good moments, because those were the days when Quackity was the least merciful. Those were the days Dream would most want to give in, give up the small bit of power he had left, just for a moment of relief. 

The worst day came after weeks of torture, when his body was littered with cuts and bruises and his throat was worn out and dry. Quackity hadn’t come to visit the day before, no longer offering comfort on his days of rest, only a break from constant pain. When he heard the familiar bang of the cell barrier drop, followed by the footsteps he’d come to know so well, Dream didn’t even flinch. 

The footsteps stopped right in front of him, and he heard the businessman lean down to speak to him. Instead of words, though, a hand twisted itself into his hair. He was unceremoniously yanked upwards to face Quackity, and flinched when the grip in his hair released. He cautiously opened his eyes, and was met with a crumpled piece of paper being shoved up to his face.

His eyes scanned over the text.

What the fuck is Kinoko Kingdom?

Was that...George?

Sapnap?

Quackity dropped the paper, letting it fall down into Dream’s lap.

“See that? They’re better off without you.”

Oh.

Something strange happened then. Something Dream hadn’t felt in what must’ve been forever, something loud and painful and festering that he’d pushed down for months bubbled up and popped in his chest. A sharp feeling bloomed in him, and he caved in on himself. A broken whimper clawed its way up his sore throat, and shame sunk into his shoulders and seeped through to his heart. Breathing was suddenly such a chore, and Dream realized that he was sad. No, not sad, harrowed. His eyes stung with tears he didn’t know he had in him, and his vision became blurred and distorted.

Quackity watched it happen, the pitiful sight almost too much. A bit of guilt crept into him, and he had to stop himself from putting a hand on the man. Instead, he reached down and pulled the poster away from the shaking figure before him, and shoved it back into his pocket, as deep as it could go. He thought he heard someone whisper something as he did it, but paid it no mind until he heard the same noise again.

“You have something to say, Dream?”

A stuttered cry made its way out of the prisoners mouth, and he suddenly knew what he was saying.

“Geor-,” he crumpled more, as if the hand of grief had wrapped itself around his lungs and squeezed.

Quackity cringed at the sight.

“If you tell me what I want to know...Maybe I’ll tell them to come visit you.”

Dream choked out an unintelligible reply, and Quackity’s ears perked up.

“What was that?”

“Th- There’s another copy,” Dream gasped.

Quackity crouched down until he was at the same level as Dream, looking directly into his eyes. 

“Where.” 

It wasn’t a question.

Dream told him. 

“You better not be fucking lying.”

Dream shook his head quickly, clenching his fists, preparing himself to be hit. No hit came.

Quackity called for Sam, and was let out of the cell. Dream closed his eyes, giving himself over to sleep.

\---

  
  


Three days passed where Dream was left alone. Nobody visited him. Sam didn’t even stop by to replenish his potato supply. Not that Dream cared much, he’d stopped eating on his own a while ago. The calm dripping noises from the crying obsidian paired with the gentle glow of the lava was actually becoming slightly comforting to him. He slept through his days, every once in a while bringing his hand up to his cheek where a particularly deep cut was still healing. It stung, but helped him assure himself that he was still breathing.

He thought about George and Sapnap a lot. Sapnap had told him that he could never leave the prison. George hadn’t visited him at all. His chest ached at that. Was what he’d done really so bad? He’d just been trying to stop the conflict, when had things gone so wrong? He shut his eyes, pushing the thoughts away. He let himself drift back into half-consciousness.

  
  


\---

  
  


Outside the prison, an anxiety riddled brunette stood, waiting to enter. With crossed arms he gripped onto the sides of his cape. It was sunny outside, but the wind was furious. A stray leaf flew at him, and briefly stuck itself in his hair before being whisked away once again. 

He was nervous to do this, but he knew he would never forgive himself if he didn’t. He had to at least visit Dream before he lost the courage to. He could decide whether to leave him there or not once he was in, but he had to at least do this. He steeled himself against the wind, and stepped into the prison.

“Sam?”

Walking further inside, George dropped his grip on his cape. 

“George, you can go through the portal now, if you’re ready.”

George took a deep breath.  _ Okay _ . 

“Okay.”

The process of getting into the prison wasn’t too difficult for him. He signed the books in all the places he needed to, he let Sam check him for any extra items, he flinched a bit at the lava, even though he knew the fire resistance would protect him. It wasn’t long before they reached the lava wall that separated him from his former best friend. Looking down, he noticed his hands were shaking.

Sam seemed to notice as well.

“You okay?” 

“Uhm. Yeah,” George said. 

“Alright. Well you can step onto the platform now, and it’ll take you over.”

“Okay.” His heart thrummed in his ears, this was quite a bit less than okay.

“Okay,” Sam mumbled, “be safe, George.”

And with that, the platform was moving, and he was on his way.

A second later, Dream was visible, and he felt his heart stop.

\---

  
  


Something like a quiet clicking woke Dream from his barely-awake haze. He immediately recognized it as the platform coming over to him, and gasped in panic. Had the book not been where he’d left it? Did Quackity think he was lying? What would he do to him if he did? Dream jerked himself up, weak arms trembling from the strain.

Wait.

The person on the platform wasn’t Quackity.

They reached the cell. Dream squinted.

They stepped inside.

Who was that?

The barrier came down, and they carefully walked over to him. Slowly, not saying anything.

“...George?” he whispered, barely audible.

“Oh,  _ Dream _ ,” the other said, hushed and sorrowful, a hand coming up to cover his trembling mouth.

“You came.”

“I...”  _ Of course I did. _

Upon closer observation, Dream’s skin seemed to be littered in dark purple splotches and long, unclean, cuts. George was shocked.

“Who- What did this?” he whispered.

Dream looked down, cringing at his state before quietly replying, “Uhm, Quackity.”

The dots connected in George’s head. Of course, that’s how he got Dream to talk. 

He brought his own hand to intertwine with Dream’s, careful not to let him fall over. He lifted it up to observe the man’s arms, and took a long exhale to steady himself. He brushed his thumb over one of the bruises and Dream flinched. George had never seen anything so hopeless.

“I’m going to get you out of here,” he said. “Sam is letting me. We’re going somewhere far away, where you can’t hurt anyone. Where no one can hurt you.”

Dream looked up. George could tell he wasn’t comprehending what he was saying. His eyes were red and one was slightly bruised, the indent of what George assumed to be Quackity’s engagement ring leaving a dent in his eyebrow. George could weep, if he let himself. He wouldn’t though, not until Dream was somewhere safe, and he was out of sight. He wrapped his arms around Dream, and the prisoner hesitantly relaxed into the embrace. George jumped at how thin he was.

“Do you have any food, Dream?”

The younger reached into his pocket, pulling out a single raw potato.

“When was the last time you ate something?”

Dream hummed, which worried George. Leaning back, he took the potato and held it up to Dream’s face. The other made no move to bite it. George didn’t blame him, but he was worried that if Dream didn’t eat something soon, he would actually die.

“Come on, Dream. Please.”

Slowly, Dream leaned forward and took the smallest bite George thought was possible.  _ At least he tried,  _ George’s thoughts assured.

He definitely wouldn’t be able to walk Dream out of here, he decided. Setting the potato aside, he reached under Dreams legs. Something told him this wouldn’t be easy.

“I’m going to carry you out, can you hold on for me?” 

When Dream made no move to do so, George resolved to lifting the blonde’s arms around his own neck and hoping for the best. When he pulled them both up, Dream seemed to understand a bit more. He kept his arms where they were, and George winced at the way he let his head lull back, hanging limply without support. That was definitely going to leave him sore, but George was sure he was too exhausted to hold himself up.

Sam was there at the entrance, waiting to let them out. George nodded at him, and they took the platform back over the lava. On his way out, George said his goodbyes to the warden, not sure if he’d ever be seeing him again. Upon reaching the exit to the prison, George leaned down to whisper in his friend’s ear. 

“Might wanna keep your eyes closed, the sun is really bright today.”

George watched Dream as they stepped outside, and it was like seeing a dying plant come back to life. His hair had never been this dark, it was typically bleached by the sun. He looked so pale, but so much more alive now that he was in open air and real sunlight. 

His horse was waiting for them outside, and George leaned the taller against his chest while they rode home. It was uncomfortable, and he could barely see over the other’s shoulder, but they were alive, they were free, and there was a portal waiting for them that would take them home.

George had told close to no one about his plans to leave the SMP, he knew people would disagree with his decision to let Dream go on with life somewhere else. He couldn’t blame them, really. He would be the first to admit that his friend had done some terrible things, but he didn’t think keeping him locked up in prison forever was the solution Dream deserved. George was a born healer, he was obviously going to want everyone to be safe and comfortable, even if people hated him for it.. 

Also, whether he wanted to admit it or not, he felt like his place would always be beside Dream and Sapnap, no matter what. He’d let Sapnap know where he was going, and invited him to follow. Unlike Dream and George, he’d be able to go back and forth between the places separated by the portal. Once Dream and George were on the other side, they wouldn’t be coming back. And George had come to terms with that. He knew Dream would have a rough time accepting it once he found out, but it would be okay eventually. 

Somewhere past Dream's shoulder, George could see the little mushroom cottage waiting for them. This was the last time he’d see it from here, he realized. The bittersweet feeling stung his heart. Every breath he took was one of the last ones he would breathe in this SMP.  _ It was a good run _ , he thought.

As they got closer, he thought he could see someone on the porch. A small fire burned at the person’s feet, and George knew it was Sapnap. When he finally reached the house, he jumped down and stomped on the little burnt patch in the wood.

“Geez, you could at least wait till I’m gone.”

“No, I think I’ll be too sad to burn it down by then,” Sapnap sighed. “How’s he looking?”

George considered telling Sapnap what happened, but stopped himself. How was he supposed to tell his friend that his fiance had beat the shit out of their friend? It wasn’t his story to tell, anyways. He pulled Dream down, back into his arms, and Sapnap stepped closer to see.

“Holy shit,” he murmured.

George hummed, walking towards the cottage. He took one last look at the house he had missed an entire war for, and chuckled a bit at the thought of his absence. He silently hoped that there would be no more wars to miss after he and Dream left.

When he stepped inside, Karl was sitting next to the portal, staring down at his hands. He looked up, and George turned to Sapnap for an explanation. 

“Oh come on- You can’t just build a kingdom with us and leave without saying goodbye.”

George smiled, turning to his other friend. “Thanks for coming, Karl.”

“Yeah, of course man,” Karl spoke, smiling back. 

The sun slid behind the clouds, and George sighed. That could very well be the last time he’d ever see that sun.

“I’m actually afraid he’ll never forgive me for this,” he admitted.

The room went quiet.

“I think he will. He’ll probably need time, but I think this is for the best,” Karl said.

“And I’ll still visit. He’s not losing everything,” added Sapnap.

George felt a little better at that. He set Dream down on a table, and motioned for Sapnap to hand him his bags. He’d packed everything they’d need; potions, tools, materials. They were all set to start life somewhere else. Sapnap helped him get them over his arms and onto his back, and patted them. George turned, and before he could say anything, he was pulled into a tight hug.

“Fuck, man. I’m really gonna miss you”

“You can still come visit, Sapnap.”

“I know, I know. It’s just...different.”

George sighed at that.

“I know,” he mumbled into his friend’s shoulder.

They all cried a bit more, the end of an era is always bittersweet. When George finally picked Dream back up and stepped through the portal, he was met with a setting sun and the silhouette of something that could have been a mountain. Wait...no. He walked towards it, trying to avoid the few mobs that had spawned as the sun sank down. When he got closer, he could clearly tell it was a house.  _ A village, maybe? No, that’s definitely a house. Does someone else live here? _

He stepped onto the front porch. There were some swings hanging from a nearby tree. Taped to the door was a small handwritten note. He saw his name at the top, and scanned the words. 

_ george, _

_ you really thought I would let you spend your first night without a house? _

  * _sapnap_



George smiled, and happy tears slightly blurred his vision. He reached for the handle with the arm under Dreams legs, and opened the door. There was a couch immediately inside, and he was able to lay Dream down, take his bags off, and close the door behind him. God, he was so grateful for his friends. He stumbled over to the couch where Dream was lying, fast asleep. He took off his cape and draped it over his friend. Finally giving in to exhaustion, he let himself fall to the carpeted floor, lean against the couch, and slip out of consciousness. Their first night was the most peaceful night they’d both had for quite a while.

  
  


\---

  
  


The first day Dream was conscious enough to grasp what George had done was a very stressful one. The realization that he’d lost everything on his home server mixed with the solace of finally being safe sent Dream into a full-blown anxiety attack that lasted hours. George had sat with him the entire time, holding him while he sobbed, being careful to avoid putting any pressure on his injuries. Throughout the next week he’d taken utmost care to clean and monitor the wounds, making sure they healed quickly and correctly.

George had also had to feed him the first couple weeks. Months of starvation and barely getting enough to eat had taken its toll on Dream’s body, and George had to make sure not to feed him more than he could take. He did especially well with soup, but wouldn’t eat anything with potatoes in it, and George understood why. 

Dream did have moments where he’d be suddenly furious with George, but George was always patient and understanding, gently coaxing Dream back down until they were okay again. The outburst happened less and less over time, but there were other things that didn't stop for a while longer. Dream would have nightmares about his time in prison, and George would often wake up to him tossing and turning, mumbling about resurrection books, or quietly pleading for help. 

The first night it happened had really startled George, enough that he wouldn’t leave Dream’s bedside for the rest of the night. The next time it happened, George moved their beds to the same room. After about a dozen more sleepless nights, George woke up to Dream standing over him, clearly distressed.

“You okay?” he questioned, sitting up a bit.

“I’m…”

George raised up a bit more and, looking into Dreams eyes, he could tell the other had been crying.

He pulled his sheets aside a bit.

“Do you want to sleep with me?”

Dream didn’t say anything, he just climbed in beside him and shut his eyes.

They were both grateful that that never changed, even on really bad days when Dream yelled at George, or George got upset with Dream over something, they would always go to bed together, a silent agreement that they would always be there for each other.

Though the two never really ran out of things to talk about, they would sometimes sit in comfortable silence together, putting together the stray thoughts they had until they were ready to do something else again. George worked on taming animals, and Dream decorated their base with beautiful, perfect art. 

He found he enjoyed having something that was completely his and his own to control, and George never tried to change that in any way. He loved seeing Dream happy, and he loved the things he made. Dream loved having a flock of parrots. He’d never have thought to own one himself, as they seemed too chaotic. But every evening George would come home with some new brightly-colored bird for him to fall in love with.

The two enjoyed each other's company, and when they eventually found themselves kissing each other good morning it felt more like playful teasing than something romantic. Maybe they should have known though, when they started holding hands at times they didn’t need to, that it might’ve been something more. Maybe they should have known it was more than platonic when they began holding each other a bit closer at night, and waiting for the other to wake up in the morning. They definitely should have known, when good morning kisses pushed them up against counters, and sunsets began to mean more than just sleeping in the same bed. But despite that, Dream still cried happy tears when George whispered to him a gentle ‘I love you’ the night of their first anniversary of moving in.

So much had changed from then to now, and Dream was so much happier for it. So was George. Sapnap visited every once in a while, just to check in and hang out, and the stories he brought with him were typically positive (except the ones where he was committing arson). Everything everywhere seemed to be perfect, just how Dream had always wanted it to be. It all seemed too good to be true.

“I think you saved me,” Dream mumbled one evening, head buried in George’s neck, who he presumed was sleeping.

“Maybe,” George replied, barely startling him.

“You also saved yourself though. Thank you for that,” George added, tracing a heart onto the blonde’s back.

Dream smiled, completely content. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Dream.” 

**Author's Note:**

> ayeeee thank you so much for reading !! please let me know if there are any spelling mistakes and as always feel free to tear this apart. comments make my day also, if you liked it maybe leave a kudos, it really helps me out a lot. again, hope everyone is having a good day :]]]


End file.
